Irresistible Chapter 5: Puck
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Sam puts on Brittany's old Cheerios uniform. Wearing it does things to him...and to everyone who sees him in it. From a GKM prompt. Chapter 5: Puck wants to help the team too. Well, that and do something he's been wanting to try for a while now.


**A/N: Not a new fic; I'm reposting the chapters of Irresistible as individual stories so that they can each be tagged for the correct characters. If you're new to Irresistible and care about the plot (such as it is), you should read the stories in order.**

And then Kitty is just gone, and Sam is stranded in Puck's bedroom with hardly any time to come up with a plan.

His first thought is to take the Cheerios outfit off. Much as he doesn't want Puck to walk in on him naked in Puck's bedroom, having just titty-fucked Puck's ex-girlfriend on Puck's bed, it's a vastly superior alternative to having Puck see him in the uniform and have to fuck him.

But then he remembers: the nineteen-minute window! He has plenty of time to walk back to the bathroom and put his own clothes back on. He's still not crazy about the idea of seeing Puck right now—no matter how cool with it Kitty claims he'll be—but it'll be better with clothes on. Best if they're boy clothes, but the Cheerios skirt will still be better than nothing. And the spanks! he remembers, untying them from his wrist. He doesn't need Puck to see his junk hanging out.

As he's peeking out the door to see if the coast is clear, he wonders about what Kitty said, about Puck wanting a turn with him. It could be true. Like if Kitty told him about how all the straight Cheerio girls turned lesbian for uniform-Brittany, then Puck could think it's worth a try. And Sam himself has seen how the uniform can turn _him_ gay—so far only for Blaine, which wasn't maybe that much of a stretch, but still—so he can't say he's totally opposed to the idea of letting Puck fuck him. Just...not now. Puck is pretty hung, as Sam has not managed to go a couple years showering with the guy without noticing, and his ass still hurts from Blaine. So.

The hallway is empty (not that he'd have much other choice if it weren't) so he steps out into it. But immediately he hears someone on the stairs and—because he cannot catch a break apparently—sees the top of a mohawk. "Hey, Puck," he says, because there's no way Puck isn't going to know he's there. "Kitty said it would be cool with you if we came over here to...uh..." He stammers and can't go on, and it's not because he doesn't know how to say what he and Kitty were doing in Puck's room. It's because Puck is visible now from the chest up, and Sam fucking wants him. But how!? "I should have _at least_ fourteen minutes left," he says—to himself, really, but out loud.

Puck chuckles. "You only get a break in between having to do the same person twice," he says. "Don't you know anything about how that magical costume works?"

"Wait, _you_ know all about it too?"

"Less talking, Evans. What do you think the nineteen minutes after are for?" Puck's at the top of the stairs now. He eyes Sam hungrily. The kid is hot. He's always known that, but of course he's never wanted him this bad before. He's mostly into chicks.

Mostly.

And there's one thing he's never tried with a guy before, and since his one-time male fuck-buddy isn't interested anymore, this is a perfect opportunity. That's what he thought when Kitty told him Sam had the uniform and it was working again—that's what he thought when he was driving home psyching himself up for this. Now all he's thinking is that, holy fuck, Evans is hot.

Sam is standing with his back against the wall, and he looks half terrified. _Completely_ turned on, but still half terrified. And Puck's not a total asshole, no matter what people think, and he doesn't want to do anything Sam doesn't want...though obviously he _does_ want it, because just _look_ at how hard and huge his cock is, practically bursting through the red material that's stretchy as hell, but not stretchy enough...

Puck can't not kiss him, but he uses some restraint. He doesn't kiss him nearly as hard as he wants to, he doesn't kiss and _grind_...he doesn't even use any tongue, for god's sake. He wants his tongue in Sam's mouth, he wants Sam's tongue in his mouth, but he holds off and covers his neck and collar bone in lips-only kisses that aren't nearly enough. "What's wrong?" he asks desperately. "I know you want me too, what's wrong?"

Sam is kind of forgetting what was wrong, actually. So it'll hurt tomorrow, so what? "I do want you too. Just...take it easy, okay? It's not that I don't want you to fuck me hard, it's just—"

So that's what he was worried about. Puck can totally put his mind at ease, and he will...after he finally kisses him the way he wants. He presses him against the wall, practically into the wall, and lets his tongue plunge into Sam's mouth. He grinds and Sam grinds right back—Sam grinds and wraps his legs around his waist. Sam whimpers when Puck pulls his mouth away—neither of them stops grinding. "I'm not going to fuck you," he says, right into Sam's ear because he doesn't want to move his mouth any farther away than he has to.

"Yeah. Okay," Sam says. "I'll probably come from this anyway."

"Not unless we lose the clothes," Puck says, because he knows that skin-on-skin is the only way it works with that uniform. "But that's not what I mean. I want you to fuck me."

"Fuck." It actually didn't even occur to Sam before this moment that Puck would want that, would even consider it. It sounds _so good_ , but still he asks, "You sure, man?"

"Real sure."

Puck's always been curious— _curious_ being the strongest word he's willing to admit to, even in his own head—ever since...

Well, it was like this. He and Finn messed around a few times back in high school, during their dry periods. Well, every period was dry for Finn, but during Puck's dry periods. Or when Finn was especially frustrated while first Quinn and then Rachel wasn't putting out. It was mostly just hand jobs, with the occasional drunk oral.

And then Finn found out that Kurt was thinking about going all the way with Blaine, and he was worried about him. He was protective of Kurt by that time—he really thought of him as a little brother—and he didn't want him to get hurt.

Puck tried to tell him that Kurt was going to be fine. That he'd given it to a few girls in the ass and they didn't even cry or anything. And that guys, he had read, actually liked it.

 _No_ , he hadn't been reading about gay sex online because he was into it. He was only looking up info on the prostate because _Finn_ tried to tell his mom had cancer in hers. Dumbass. Anyway, the prostate—which guys have but girls and moms don't—can make a dude come just from getting fucked. That's what he read. So Finn should be happy for his little bro.

Anyway it was Finn's idea. He wasn't going to be okay with his brother taking some dude's cock up his ass until he knew what it was going to feel like.

Or who knows? Maybe he just wanted Puck to fuck him and didn't want to come out and ask him to.

But...no. Finn's not the conniving kind. Maybe some part of him just wanted Puck to fuck him, but if so, that part would have had to convince the part that actually asked Puck to fuck him that concern for Kurt was the real reason.

Or whatever. Point is, Finn asked Puck to fuck him and Puck said yes. And it was kind of awesome.

That is, fucking someone is pretty much always awesome—as long as they don't rip out half your mohawk or something—so no surprise there. Plus Puck's always kind of had a thing for anal, not just because it's _so_ hot and tight back there, but also because most girls give it up a lot less easily. He likes a challenge sometimes.

But what was surprising was that Finn thought it was pretty awesome too. He could have been faking the moaning and stuff, Puck guesses—"Oh god, Puck, right there! Fuck, fuck, fuck, do it again _right there_!"—though he doesn't know why he would. But there's no way he could have faked coming so hard: the muscles contracting like crazy around Puck's cock, the creamy come stains all over Puck's sheets... Puck came really hard in his ass, but not half as hard as Finn himself seemed to.

The more Puck thought about it in the days and weeks that followed (thought about it and jerked off to his thoughts about it), the more he wanted to try it with the positions reversed. Just to see, you know.

Problem was, Finn didn't want to talk about it, like, at all. Didn't want to acknowledge what they'd done, much less how much he'd apparently enjoyed it. Didn't want to talk any more about his worries about Kurt taking that step with Blaine. Didn't even want to go back to their occasional hand- and blowjobs.

So, fine, whatever. Puck could still get as much action as he wanted—well, not always _as much_ as he wanted, but always a respectable amount—with chicks. And that stuck-up Warbler dude he fucked that one time, because the dude wanted it and why not. But he didn't know stuck-up Warbler dude nearly well enough to let him pop his ass cherry.

The few guys he trusted enough either weren't gay or were gay but were in a relationship. Not that either bothered him especially, but it tended to bother his potential partners. Kurt never picked up on his hints even. When Blaine figured out what he was doing he told him to back off. Even though Puck tried to explain the offer was open to both of them! No strings attached!

The only reason he had never hit on Sam before was he was sure he wouldn't be interested. But now! That fucking uniform makes the person wearing it interested in anyone and everyone. God bless Sue Sylvester! (Batshit crazy though she is.)

"You're _really_ sure?" Sam asks again, even as he's groping Puck's ass through his jeans. Now that Puck has offered, Sam feels like he's never wanted anything more, like he'll die if he can't get inside Puck's ass. But he knows he won't really die, and he doesn't want to do it if Puck hasn't thought this through. The phlebotinum can make people kind of crazy, make them say things they might not totally understand the consequences of. "Cause I mean, I don't even know how patient I can be getting you ready and stuff."

"Dude, I know. I took care of it." As soon as Kitty called him he started taking care of it.

Kitty and he are...they were never in love, obviously—neither of them does _in love_. They had some crazy hot sex, or near-sex as Kitty would call it. She's one of those everything-but girls. Including, sometimes, being an everything- _butt_ girl. But that isn't the weird thing about them. The weird thing about is that they actually kind of get each other.

If Puck had dated her in high school he never would have opened up to her about some of the shit he did—top of the list being his burning desire to get fucked in the ass some time. Just once! Out of curiosity. But he's not in high school anymore, and what's the point of getting the hell out of high school if you're just going to keep worrying about the same shit?

So he mentioned it. Maybe more than once. Maybe enough times that she made a totally serious offer to buy a strap-on and fuck his ass. And he would have taken her up on it, except...well, this was after they stopped almost-fucking, for one thing. And strap-ons are expensive—they looked at some online—and she would probably never use it more than the one time. (Not even with Brittany because Brittany had more than one of her own.) But mainly it was because Puck didn't think it would give him the _real_ experience.

And since had they talked about it, maybe more than once, and since that's the kind of pals they are now, Kitty called him when she found out about Sam and the uniform. And Puck immediately sprang into action.

He was in the middle of grocery shopping when she called him. He abandoned his cart in the middle of the cereal aisle and headed straight to the sex toy shop where he got Kitty that top-of-the-line vibrator because she always had such a hard time getting off. (Not that it was a totally selfless gift or anything, because watching girls come is super hot.)

Not seeing any reason to be shy in a sex toy shop, he marched up to the chick at the counter and said, "I'm gonna get my ass fucked in less than an hour, first time for me, gonna have to be ready to get down to business as soon as I see the guy. What do you recommend?"

"Foreplay," the chick said matter-of-factly. "I don't think getting down to business as soon as you see him is a good idea."

"Maybe not. But that's the way it's gonna be. So if you don't have any products you wanna sell me..."

"I'll sell you stuff that'll help. I just want to be on record saying this is a bad idea, and you're probably going to get hurt, and don't try to sue me when you do."

"Deal. So I guess I'll need some of your heavy-dutiest lube and, what? Like a butt plug? I still have to drive home, and I thought I could use the commute time to, like, multitask."

The chick shook her head a little but just asked, "Any idea how big the guy is?"

Before he could stop himself he smirked and answered, "Almost as big as me." He might have gone for his belt buckle—not to actually whip it out but to imply that he was willing to—if the ice-cold look she gave him hadn't told him it would be a very, very bad move. She helped him find and purchase a suitable plug and told him he absolutely could not use the staff restroom before he left, so he had to duck into a nearby McDonalds.

Having never shoved a foreign object up his ass before—much less one he intended to leave lodged in place for a while—Puck did not find the less-than-spacious McDonalds bathroom stall the easiest place to do so. He may have grunted a little. Worse...he may have whimpered a little.

But he got the fucking thing in. It wasn't the most pleasurable thing he'd ever done to himself (not even the most pleasurable thing he'd ever done to himself in a McDonalds restroom), and he got some uncomfortable looks from a couple guys washing their hands when he emerged from his stall, but fuck it.

Driving home, the plastic stick in his rectum felt more...more _weird_ than anything else. Puck's truck doesn't have the best shocks, and when he hit his first pothole it was pretty damn unpleasant. By the third or fourth pothole he didn't mind so much, and by the time he got to his own street...well, he knows where every pothole on his block is, and he always avoids them. Except today.

And now! Hot as hell Sam in that skimpy little uniform squeezing his ass, unknowingly pushing the plug farther up into his ass with every touch...yeah, this is the best idea Puck has ever had. "Unwrap your legs from me."

Sam whines piteously instead, squeezes his wraps his legs tighter, grinds against Puck's cock harder.

"Dude, I _love_ what you're doing there, but you gotta let me get my pants off and show you my ass."

Sam immediately disentangles his legs and opens Puck's belt for him. Then his button and zipper, then he gets his pants pushed down past his hips. "You're going commando!"

Puck doesn't even have time to respond that fuck right he's going commando—he knew he wasn't going to want any extra layers slowing them down—before Sam's got him turned around and pressed up against the hallway wall. He hopes to god his mom isn't going to be home any time soon, though he's not worried enough about it to actually tell Sam to wait a minute while they move into his room.

Sam kneels behind Puck and pushes his jeans down to his ankles. He kisses up his thigh and nips at an ass cheek before he grabs it, pulls it away from the other one, and sees..."Holy fuck, is that...?"

"Yeah." Puck rests his head against the wall and pushes his ass back against Sam's hands. "There's more lube in the left front pocket, so just slick yourself up and take the fake one out and put the real one in."

"Holy fuck," Sam says again. He reaches into Puck's front pocket with his left hand and gropes his cock with his right.

"Shit! Oh shit!" Puck was not expecting the hand-on-cock contact at this moment, and it totally electrifies him. "I fucking love you, man." Sam freezes for a second, which makes Puck realize what he just said. "Sorry! Sorry, I just meant..."

"It's cool," Sam says. He loves Puck too right now. He's still at least half in love with everyone he's messed around with in the last couple days, in fact. Lube bottle in hand, he stands, pulls off his spanks, and ties them around his wrist. (Is it weird that this move is almost second nature already?) He coats his dick in lube and, while he should be used to this too by now, it has not stopped surprising and frustrating the hell out of him that touching his own cock provides no relief at all.

"Ooooh, shit!" Puck doubles over as the plug is pulled out of his ass way too abruptly. He's not even sure if it was just a shock or if it actually hurt like hell, and before he can figure it out he feels the tip of Sam's cock poking at his entrance and he forgets all about everything else. "Fuck me!" he orders. "Fucking fuck me already!"

And it's not like Sam really needs the encouragement. He braces himself with one hand on Puck's hip and one on the wall in front of him and pushes in. There's resistance, despite the plug that was filling Puck's ass for however long, and he tries not to hurt him. But when he slows down, Puck tells him, "Come on, man, I'm not a delicate flower."

"Greedy for it much, Puckerman?"

"Fuck you, Evans. I bet you needed it just as bad when you let Anderson plow you."

"Yeah," Sam admits, not even bothering to wonder how Puck knows about that.

He knows that Puck might be more cautious if it weren't for the special circumstances. But he's not made of stone.

And it's perfect, it's so perfect he can't even think about how Puck's going to be sore after, even though he knows from experience that Puck _is_ going to be sore after. But he also knows, if Puck is anything like him, that he's not going to care, not even afterwards. And so he lets go of every concern, of every thought really, and just loses himself in the sensation of Puck's tight hole gripping his cock so perfectly as he slams in again and again and again.

Puck is totally overwhelmed. He fucked Brittany in this uniform—many times—so it's not a surprise exactly, how intense it is. But he's never been on this side of a fucking before, and it really...he kind of knew he'd like it no matter what just because of the uniform, but he can't believe it's _this_ good. That stuff he read about prostates is totally true, and he's going to blow just from Sam nailing him, not even touching his cock or anything. Just from _taking it_.

He likes that. He may have told a girl or two to _take it_ while he was pounding her. And that stuck-up Warbler. "Tell me to take it," he says.

Sam vaguely registers that Puck said something. "Huh?"

"Tell me to take it. Say, 'Take it!' when you fuck me."

"Take it, whore," Sam says as he slams into him again. "Take my cock, you little slut!"

"Fuck! Oh... _fuck_!" Puck's muscles seize up—only his hips are moving as he starts frantically and totally involuntarily humping the hallway wall. He roars with pleasure as he unloads on the floral wallpaper his nana helped his mom pick out many years ago.

Sam continues to fuck him throughout, telling him with each thrust to fucking take it. But it's not like he can possibly keep going for that much longer, not with the way Puck's ass is squeezing and tugging. "Oh god," he pants. "I'm gonna fill your ass with come. Take my come, whore...fucking... _take it_." And he gives it to him, shoots his ass so full of his fucking come that it's probably going to spray out his eye sockets.

They both go still, lacking the energy to move or even speak. But the pull of gravity is strong, and eventually Sam topples over, pulling Puck on top of him.

"So..." Sam starts. But he doesn't know where to go with that thought. So instead he lets his hand up under Puck's t-shirt and rubs his back.

Puck nestles his head into Sam's shoulder and lets his eyes close. "Don't fall asleep," he says out loud, though it's mostly to himself. "Or we'll have to do this again in about nineteen minutes." And it's not that it sounds unappealing, it's just that he's exhausted.

"Yeah, how do you know so—"

Sam can't finish asking how he knows so much about the uniform, because Puck's hand is suddenly covering his mouth. "Someone's home." He listens carefully to the footsteps downstairs, the dropping of something on the kitchen table, the opening of the refrigerator door. "It's my sister, not my mom. She's gonna get a snack so we have time to..."

But the footsteps are coming toward the stairs now, and Puck realizes he was only half right: yes, it's his sister, but she's not staying in the kitchen for a few minutes. And he curses himself because if he'd remembered to pick up some of her fruity yogurt parfait thingies like she'd asked him to, she _would_ be having that snack first.

He scrambles off Sam and pulls his jeans up. Then he notices that Sam is still lying on the floor, frozen and wide-eyed with panic. "Dude, put your underwear thingies back on!"

Sam shakes his head and snaps out of it. "Right!" He unties the spanks from his wrist and quickly pulls them on. But just as he sees the top of a young girl's head he realizes this is the exact opposite of what he should have done—better Puck's little sister should see him naked than in the Cheerios uniform! "Oh fuck, dude."

Realization flashes across Puck's face and he instinctively moves in front of Sam while yelling, "Don't come upstairs!"

But it's too late.


End file.
